Of Pies and Political Coups
by NichtBenz
Summary: Sequel (of a sort) to Mrs. Lovett and the Warrior Women. A series of oneshots devoted to the every days lives of Mrs. Lovett and Bellatrix as Bellatrix plots her domination of all living things, and Nellie plots for her Mr. T. It's mildly suggestive without nearly enough crack to be as silly as it wants to be.
1. Of Marriage

Dearest people of the internet, I am here to continue my trapesing around in the fields of smutty crack fic that entirely lacks in smut and crack, with a sequel of sorts of Mrs Lovett and the Warrior Women. Seriously, this makes like jack shit sense without the previous story. It is a series of oneshots focusing around Nellie and Bellatrix's new lives together, and well yeah. Enjoy, and remember, it's all in good fun.

I don't even own my car, I certainly don't own anything related to Harry Potter or Sweeney Todd, and I am certainly not making any money off of either. If I were I would be a much happier camper.

* * *

"Bella, tell me about your husband." The uncharacteristically quiet voice barely traveled through Bellatrix's hair and into her ears. She had spent the last hour engrossed in the copy of the Daily Prophet she had managed to acquire, while Nellie had been upstairs trying to get a conversation out of Sweeney. Though the paper was currently in its infancy (it didn't even cover Quidditch yet) and hadn't _completely_ entangled itself with the ministry and bribery and every other enemy of journalistic integrity, the signs of tampering were still evident to the raven haired witch. After all, Bellatrix had threatened and tortured enough reporters in her time to recognize the writing of a forced hand.

Whoever was pulling the strings was the one in charge, and therefore the one Bellatrix needed to target to bring the wizarding world to its knees. All of this planning naturally required a massive amount of concentration, something Bellatrix had precious little of to begin with, much less when Nellie decided to chat her up.

"What?!"

"Well, you're married, ain't ya? Ya got that wedding band after all."

Completely confused, Bellatrix looked down to ponder for the first time in years, the ring on her finger. Bellatrix hadn't even wanted to put the damn thing on. It was because of Narcissa after Bellatrix had come back from Azkaban, blubbering about sentimentality and romance, and "saving love from the attacks of the ministry" and "appearances." In the end Bellatrix slipped it on to shut Narcissa up, and promptly forgot about it until just now. And this time, to shut Nellie up, she would have to talk about the hunk of metal too.

"I guess I am married. Why?"  
"Well, he's your husband. Or was if he's dead. You wouldn't happen to be a widow too would you. Look at us a couple marry widows. But even if he weren't your 'one true love' or any of that blather, he's a part of ya, a part of your past. Do you think about him, much?" Somewhere in her babbling Nellie has found her way across the room and into Bellatrix's lap. She wrapped her arms around Bellatrix's shoulders and gave her the most pathetic look of want Bellatrix had ever seen. She was like a malnourished little puppy begging for food with its big brown eyes.

All care about The Prophet disappeared into Nellie's pout just above her, and her cleavage which happened to rest just at eye level. As her breasts fluttered under her bodice with each breath, Bellatrix couldn't help but think they resembled two tiny snow owls cuddled together in a nest. She wondered if she were to pluck the owls and make pillows from them, if the pillows would be as soft as –

"Well? Bellatrix! Are you listenin' to me?" The adorable little pout had been replaced by stern thin lips and a raised eyebrow. It was the raised eyebrow of expectation.

"Let me think!" And Bellatrix really did need to think to try and remember anything of Rodolphus, really.

Had she even held a full conversation with him after the break out?

Had they spoken at all outside of meetings?

Was he even at any of the meetings? Aside from a couple extraordinary cowards, all the other Death Eaters had a tendency to blend together, especially when within any appreciable proximity to the Dark Lord and his awe-inspiring self.

But it wouldn't do to dwell on Him, especially now, with a coup to plan and Nellie waiting expectantly.

"He was acceptable. Is? I'm not sure if I'm actually married. I mean, he isn't alive yet," Bellatrix remembered the battle "and even in relation to my own time, he's probably dead, or gotten the kiss." Bellatrix caught Nellie opening her mouth for another question from the corner of her eye, and hurried to speak so that she wouldn't have the chance to ask. She wanted the conversation to end sometime before they both died. "He's dead! Let's just say he's dead. Merry widows and all, right?"

Satisfied that Nellie wasn't going to interrupt just yet, Bellatrix continued. "There were worse duelists, I suppose. He rarely got in my way and required little correction. We shared similar politics, and wealth, so I never had to listen to any preaching, and he kept my parents at bay with the 'propriety' and 'familial duty.' I could have done worse. But really he wasn't anything special. I certainly don't refer to him as 'poor old Rodolphus.'" she concluded with a pointed look at Nellie.

Bellatrix could see how Nellie's feathers were ruffled at the comment. It was rather attractive.

"Albert were a good enough man who didn't deserve what 'e got in life. Poor bugger did the best he could for me, even if I didn't love him like he wanted." Now Bellatrix felt the need to interrupt.

"What he deserved? But you're the one who killed him aren't you?" Nellie's head whipped around and her eyes widened in terror.

"Shush your bleedin' mouth!" Nellie clasped a hand over Bellatrix's mouth and Bellatrix laughed as Nellie raised her voice a little, staring at the door in terror. "Don't know what you're talking about! Where on Earth would you get an idea like that? Albert died in his sleep 'e did."

Bellatrix pried Nellie's hand from her mouth and replaced it on her shoulder. Whispering to Mrs. Lovett (even though there was no need, the whole room had a silencing charm as Nellie would have remembered had she not flown into a panic) "But Nellie Nellie Nell, I saw it." Bellatrix playfully poked Nellie just in the center of her forehead. Nothing made Nellie Lovett, a woman of many secrets as Bellatrix had learned, more furious than when the witch either used Legilimency on her or mentioned her use of it. It made her feel weak, which was a feeling Bellatrix loved to see, she also couldn't help her attraction to an angry Mrs. Lovett. And now, as Nellie stiffened in Bellatrix's lap and her eyes blackened, the woman obviously seething, Bellatrix wanted desperately to ravish her. But she wanted to sate her curiosity just a little bit more than her lust at the moment, and decided to coax an answer out of Nellie's lips with a short, chaste kiss. The woman took it as an apology (even if it wasn't) and after a further moment of stillness, she relaxed a little again and began to speak.

"It was a mercy killing, really." The corner of Nellie's mouth twisted up just a little, "For both of us. The man was sick with just about every illness God could think to give him. He was miserable and never went a moment without telling everyone within earshot, which near the end was me, myself, and I, all about it. Drove me half mad 'e did, and goodness knows I could barely so much as do the dishes when I was busy waiting on him hand 'n foot! So one night, when he started wailing away again, I pulled the pillow out from under me 'ead 'n sent him home to Jesus." Bellatrix had been expecting something just a little bit colder from the cannibalistic mastermind in her lap. But she supposed, the woman did have a heart much too big for her own good.

"Was the best night of sleep I ever had." There it was. Bellatrix was impressed, actually. Over the brief time she had lived in the house on Fleet Street, Bellatrix had very quickly noted Nellie's devotion and adoration to Sweeney Todd (something she could sympathize with, though she would be damned to admit it) and had attributed Nellie's more violent tendencies to her willingness to please and take care of the man, especially compared to her care of the boy, and her constant dragging to the park to talk on and on about the seaside.

"Next mornin', all I had to do was fake up a few tears, wander down to the doctor to tell him Albert had finally passed in the night. Then before I knew it poor ol' Albert was in the ground and I was free to sleep much as I liked."

When it came down to it, with Nellie's brilliant reuse of the bodies, her murder of her husband, or the way she would use just the right sway of her hips and seductive smile to talk Bellatrix into doing most anything she asked, the woman was as cunning and resilient as Bellatrix herself, and if she weren't a filthy muggle, she surely would have been a Slytherin. What else could Bellatrix want from a pet? She was clever, and attractive, never forcing any of her silly romantic notions on Bellatrix (those were still wrapped around the barber upstairs; Bellatrix quickly reminded herself that she was _not_ jealous), and absolutely fantastic in bed. Had she a wand Nellie could have been a perfect second in command, devious and devoted.

But still, the conversation with Sweeney must have had some effect on the woman in her lap. Her ever present smile was hollow, and Nellie seemed distracted. Deciding to bring the baker's attention back to herself and off of the pacing on the ceiling (alright, she was jealous, but of the attention, not the love. Bellatrix had never been one to share.) Bellatrix put on a cheeky grin and turned the redhead to face her.

"Nellie Lovett, if you were a witch I would marry you."

Nellie chuckled darkly, but her eyes lit up. "I dunno, love, I think we both may be bad luck for spouses. Wouldn't want to have to smother you, dear, would I?" Then a devilish smirk took over her face. "How are you with affairs?"

This time, Bellatrix did not suppress the urge to ravish her.


	2. Of Magic

Magic was a very funny thing, Nellie Lovett had learned.

Sometimes it was infinitely helpful. Like all the ways Bellatrix used it to help around the house (usually because she wanted something. But did it matter why she did it so long as she did?) Sometime Bellatrix would levitate the bodies onto the butcher table (and then fill with glee should Nellie allow her to take part in the actual butchering), or dole out cleaning spells.

Oh Good Lord in Heaven how thankful was Nellie for the cleaning spells (Was it blasphemous to thank God for witchcraft? Oh well, it was too late now to worry about her immortal soul, if she even had one). The store had been so sparkling clean recently (thanks to just a couple flicks of Bellatrix wand after Mrs. Lovett had shooed Toby to bed) that more than one customer had tried to hire Nellie's helpful new sister for housework (when Nellie told Bellatrix this, the witch flew in to a rage, screaming something about not being an elf.) Some nights, Nellie could even convince Bellatrix to magic the blood out of Mr. Todd's shirts, saving Nellie hours a week on laundry.

Course a couple cleaning spells here and there were about the least Bellatrix could do considering the way she routinely turned the house inside out. And that was how Mrs. Lovett had learned some of the bad sides of magic, and it could be very bad. Not just for the times that Nellie would grab a tumbler of gin only to find it suddenly grow burning hot, with Bellatrix laughing at her when she dropped it, and she utterly detested when Bellatrix would look deeply into her eyes, only to realize that she was digging around in Nellie's thoughts and memories. Or the times when her tongue would suddenly sew itself to the roof of her mouth when Bellatrix thought she was talking to much, or even when a rather hands-y customer would suddenly find his hand going limp and refusing to work, or worse should Bellatrix be able to get them in the alley beside the shop.

No, the times that Nellie was truly deeply scared of magic had all been far more than mischievous or benignly malevolent, but absolutely malicious. Once over a bottle of gin, Mrs. Lovett found herself listening to a drunken Bellatrix wax poetically about that "Dark Lord" from her time with a warm adoring look in her eye. And Mrs. Lovett felt a genuine attachment to the woman, born of seeing herself in Bellatrix. But as the conversation continued she saw more of herself of Bellatrix than she would care to admit, and in a way it disgusted her. So eager to change the conversation, Nellie tried to stop it.

"Well love, lot o' good dreamin' over this Voldy fellow will do you now, seein' as you left him behind an-" For just an instant that seemed to last an eternity Nellie Lovett's body was engulfed in a pain so deep and all consuming that she couldn't even breathe to scream out. Fear gripped her heart as she felt death. She could only imagine that she would prefer to be thrown into her own oven than to continue feeling this for a second more.

Then it was over, and standing over her was Bellatrix, eyes dark with rage and teeth bared, her wand focused between Nellie's eyes. " YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT! YOU ARE UNFIT TO SO MUCH AS SAY THE DARK LORD'S NAME! NEVER EVER-" and Mrs. Lovett could almost see Bellatrix die a little inside as a deep despair came over her. "Never mention him again." And with that Bellatrix disappeared into the bake house for the rest of the night before emerging the next morning chipper as ever, as if nothing had ever happened, and Nellie was more than fine pretending the same.

Luckily though, that terrifying magic was rarely around her. The most common of all spells tended to be the ones that the two were using now. Like this wonderful silencing spell that the two women crying out in pleasure, and filling the air with any number of indecent sounds were pushing to its very limits.

Nellie could remember exactly the first time she had discovered it existed. Absolutely delighted Nellie had been, and convinced it was a trick as she would open and slam the door over and over, delighting in the alternating strings of profanity Bellatrix screamed on one side, and the utter silence on the other. Until of course, Toby stumbled into the hall to figure out why exactly, his Mum was slamming the door open and closed.

"Mum?"

"-treacle tarts!"SLAM.

"What is it dear?" Mrs. Lovett need only look at his sleepy eyes and ruffled hair to immediately feel her heart tug.

"What are you doing to the door, mum?" Of course. That would create a ruckus wouldn't it?

"Just... checking the hinges love. 's been sticking lately. No surprise though, the pins are probably older than you are. But it seems to be working now, so you go back to bed, and curl in snug as a bug, and I'll just go to bed myself and stop trying to tear it down." She planted a kiss on the boy's head before shoving him in the direction from whence he came. "Goodnight!" and she whirled into her own room shutting the door tightly.

And she and Bellatrix proceeded to make as many noises as the possibly could that no one outside her own room should (or now thanks to Bellatrix, would) hear.

And indeed, as the night at hand, with a far more educated Nellie astride a very adventurous Bellatrix, who grinned lasciviously up at her as she whispered to her wand making it jump and buzz before she lowered it to the apex of Nellie's thighs, oh Nellie Lovett wasn't sure how she had ever lived without magic.


	3. Of Murderous Housemates

She had never invited her she realized. Nellie had never turned to Bellatrix and offered for her to stay. Likewise, Bellatrix had never actually asked. She had just declared it one morning in th bakehouse and Nellie followed along and began hatching a plan of her own to help Bellatrix succeed in her s.

She had done so before, she realized, with Sweeney. Once in a belligerent rag had had decided he wanted to kill every man in London, and Nellie started thinking on how to make it work and work for her.

She had a reason for doing so with Sweeney though. When Sweeney declared and she set to doing, it was out of a devoted love and dire desperation. But when she did the same with Bellatrix, she was well-off financially and had the man she had spent most of her life dreaming about almost within her grasp.

Maybe it was the delirium of the moment; the inhibition of only just waking up from a wild romp with a warrior from the past and a witch from the future just showing up in her room to fuck her senseless.

And senseless she had apparently stayed as months later she happily housed two insane murderers intent on killing as many as they possibly needed (all so that hey may attain some twisted ideal world that they would probably never be content with.)

Nellie was content though. In all of the house's brooding, blood, and bones Nellie Lovett was content. She had her boy and her bustling business. She had the man that she loved in her home, and a beautiful friend in her bed.

Nellie Lovett didn't know why exactly she went along with these beautiful maniacs and their murderous plans so easily. But truth be told she didn't exactly care.

Humanity and be damned. Sweeney and Bellatrix could stay in her house plotting its destruction forever for all she cared, because Nellie Lovett was happy.


	4. Of Churches and Teamwork

_So, I might have gotten just the tiniest bit sacrilegious here, but I don't think we can get too high and mighty about that in a crossover from a fandom about murderers, cannibals, and rapists and a fandom focusing on witchcraft and wizardry. Like, this really isn't _that bad _in the scheme of things. Anyways, it's all in good fun. Have a laugh. _

_P.S. As always it is late, and I've had a few, and no, none of this has been beta'd. _

Toby had wanted to go to church. So Nellie had decided they were all going to church. Granted, Bellatrix and Sweeney had spent the entire week before hand tag-teaming the boy with talk about myths and parables, regimes and appropriation, but the boy wasn't buying it.

So they changed tactics. They took turns trying as hard as they could to convince the boy that the only real faith anyone needed was the love in their hearts and the urge to do good for others (even Sweeney cracked a smile when it was his turn to rattle off his spiel. Really it was nearly impossible for any adult in the house to get through that one with a straight face.)

But Nellie though cared a little more for other than either Sweeney or Bellatrix. Granted that care really only extended to Toby, Sweeney, and Bellatrix but it was further by miles than the reach of the other two adults. Bellatrix did not miss he raise of Nellie's eyebrow and pinch of her nose when the boy first came to her rambling about God and creation and thanking tiny baby Jesus for his blessings and blah blah blah by going to church.

Bellatrix knew Nellie was as fond of their free Sunday mornings as she was. There was something so wonderful about being extra deviant and perverted while the rest of the world ran around patting themselves on the back for pretending to be decent one day a week.

It was a rare moment in the house where all four inhabitants were resting quietly in the living room by the fire when Toby had first brought it up. It was even quieter then as Bellatrix, Sweeney, and Toby all anxiously awaited Nellie's response.

Bellatrix wasn't particularly worried. After all, Nellie had made it quite clear in the past as to what she thought of churches with all their moral moanings as they guilted people into giving the church enough money to do as it pleased. The way she saw it, she had said, was that if anyone was going to use her hard earned money to live a life of luxury and condescension it was going to be her, and if that meant her immortal soul (her eyes had flickered as a sly grin spread across her face) well, it was too late to worry about that now.

It wasn't even as if Bellatrix took issue with Jesus or any other figure in and of themselves; from her History classes back at Hogwarts she knew Jesus Christ was a wizard who had used his magic to try and impress muggles into not being such heathens. It didn't really end up working, well, certainly not for him. It was a very Slytherin thing to do though, and that even endeared the carpenter to her a bit (although his constant harping on equality and the inherent strength of the weak had a tendency to grate on every one of Bellatrix's nerves. She would forgive him this once, as she did appreciate that two thousand years after his death he still had billions of devoted followers ready to kill for him. )

Bellatrix should have been worried about the answer. After all, Nellie was doting and the boy was cute: so cute that even with pure disgust written across her face Nellie answered clear-as-a-bell:

"Of course, my love."

Bellatrix groaned and flung herself backwards into her chair.

Sweeney just walked out of the room and slammed the door.

It was obvious from the stern look in Nellie's eye that not only was Bellatrix expected to attend, but that she was to convince Sweeney to come too. She still didn't fully understand where Nellie got the idea that she had any sway over the barber, but somewhere along the lines she had decided that they were "so similar" that sure they would "catch like a house on fire" if they only gave each other the chance. Then Nellie would typically chuckle and reach towards Bellatrix's temple adding "even got the same hair style." Then she would laugh as she tugged on Bellatrix's white streak before Bellatrix stormed out, like she decided to do just then.

Bellatrix would talk to Sweeney alright, but it would not be to coheres him into going to church.

No. Bellatrix was going to have to be as Slytherin as Jesus Christ, and work together with Sweeney Todd for a common end.

Black eyes met black eyes in a silent, unblinking, battle of wills. They hated each other undeniably for any number of reasons. Bellatrix hated temperamental muggles, Sweeney hated the woman who knew what they were up to, Bellatrix hated that he got to kill so many men as part of his job, Sweeney hated when she would sneak into his shop while he was otherwise engrossed and steal a kill. He would stomp around like he owned the place, she would stomp around like she owned the place, and they were always competing over who got quality accomplice time with Nellie.

So now, staring each other down, they each dared the other to be the first to break and ask for help.

Bellatrix's eyes were starting to blur as the lids begged to move. Sweeney's eyes were visibly twitching. They probably shouldn't have decided to have their little contest on the outer stairs in the dead of winter, but that was where they happened to meet and neither prison hardened maniac wanted to be the one to break down and say: "Gee, it really is a bit nippy out here. Would you mind terribly if we were to go inside where it's a bit warmer before I break apart all sense of self I have and ask for help in overcoming the whims of a twelve year old drunkard?"

"Bloomin' Hell! Will you two please come inside!? I don't have the time to run around takin' care of both of ya when you catch your deaths out here!" Mrs. Lovett slamming the door finally made them both blink.

Bellatrix led the way up the stairs into Sweeney's shop.

"We could kill the boy."

Sweeney was apparently not going to waste any time in planning today.

"But can you imagine how sulky Nell would be? She'd go on and on and on, and be insufferable."

Sweeney raised an eyebrow.

"Even more so than she already is."

Sweeney's mouth twitched upward, and Bellatrix laughed at her own joke.

They started staring again, at a loss for ideas and willing the other to think of _something_. Bellatrix really hopes it wouldn't take too long, she was getting hungry.

Maybe she could just kill herself, or set the house on fire or something to distract Nellie and the boy.

That was it!

"I have an idea!"

The four of them were stuck dead in the center of a ridiculous crowd, and dressed in their Sunday best comprised entirely of moth bitten black funeral attire, they were drawing almost as much attention as the smoldering remains of the church before them.

Nellie was blabbering.

"The whole bleedin' thing, just goin' up like that! Can you believe it?"

Toby whistled in awe, Bellatrix shrugged, and Sweeney grunted out a quick "shame."

Mrs. Lovett ripped off her fascinator and put her hand on her hip. "Well, guess we're just going to have to find some other Sunday tradition."

Toby looked up hopefully. "Can we get some toffee's mum!?"

"Sure, love. Besides, toffee isn't nearly the hastle of getting' up for church is it?"

Shoving unceremoniously through the throng, they made good their escape.

Turning slightly, Bellatrix caught Sweeney's eye and briefly twitched the corner of her mouth upwards at him.

Sweeney nodded.

Every now and again apparently, very rarely, in the dead of night with a couple cheap bottles of gin, some rags, and a handful of matches, they could make a good team.


	5. Of Pie Eating

This was easily the most uncomfortable Nellie Lovett had been since Bellatrix had arrived, if not her entire adult life.

But Sweeney had demanded it, and much as she hated to admit it sometimes, Eleanor Lovett could not say no to Sweeney Todd.

He and Bellatrix had fought more than a few times since her arrival, most of them ending when Bellatrix and her wand had the upper hand. But as time wore on Sweeney was becoming more accustomed to Bellatrix, and learning more of her weak spots.

Mrs. Lovett wasn't entirely sure why, but, Sweeney was becoming more and more sure that Bellatrix was a threat to their "operation" and they had ended up here after Sweeney had burst into the bake house as the women worked to properly butcher the days customers. Bellatrix was doing all of the actual butchering (her favorite part) as Nellie picked through all the clothes and belongings left on the men for money ad interesting knick knacks (_her _favorite part.)

"She eats one."

Nellie knew the drill: she would stand in between the two as they snarled at each other over her shoulder until one or both left to go fume somewhere for a while. She prepared herself for a wait as they would surely start their usual teeth snapping.

"What was that, love?" She didn't really care. But she knew it was better to pretend she cared.

"She eats a pie."

Both women sounded in unison.

"What?"

"To prove she is actually with us."

Bellatrix scoffed and turned away to return to her work with the meat. Nellie could practically feel the witch rolling her eyes behind her.

"Really, love. You think my sister, what hardly uses the clever to tear 'em up might turn us in?" She had to focus on not laughing at the man. Bellatrix, her murderous witch of a lesbian lover (not that Sweeney knew most of that) going to the coppers? Preposterous; might as well tell 'em she was from the future too. Nellie was sure she could hear Bellatrix stifling a laugh behind her.

"She eats a pie, or I leave and I never come back."

No one was laughing now.

Terror was gripping Mrs. Lovett's heart. She felt tears welling up in her eyes at the very thought of returning to a life without him. He might not be all she wanted him to be to her, but in a way, he was hers – he was there. Even when she wouldn't see him for days at a time she could hear his footsteps as he paced the floor. Without that sound, that knowledge of his existence and his safety she didn't know how she would make it.

"Get out and we'll discuss it."

Had Nellie not been fighting so hard against tears she would have been surprised by Bellatrix's sudden nearness, the comforting hand at the small of her back, and her growl of a reply to Sweeney.

He turned swiftly and left.

It took a moment for Nellie to gather herself and face Bellatrix.

"Well, that is dirty pool if I've ever seen it."

Nellie was confused by Bellatrix's surprisingly supportive demeanor. But somewhere in her worry fogged head she remembered her surmization that Bellatrix had had a "Sweeney" of her own so to speak back in her time. She knew that somewhere, as much as Bellatrix would deny it, she knew and understood the terror at the thought of being left behind by him.

"Well, what'll you give me if I eat this poor bastard?"

That was how they got to this wretchedly awkward moment: Bellatrix and Sweeney glaring at each other across the table, with Nellie standing still at the end of the table holding her breath and waiting for it to be over. The only sounds in the entire house were the ceaseless ticking of the old clock and Toby's awful snores.

Nellie was battling herself inside her head as she tried to figure out why this whole thing was so unsettling. After all Toby must eat half a dozen of these pies a day. But he was a growing boy, he needed all the meat he could get – if she didn't feed the boy their freely acquired meat the boy would eat her broke. The adults though did not have this excuse.

On any of the rare occasions that Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett had eaten the meat it had been brief, knowing, and necessitated. Certainly they had no qualms about feeding it to the unknowing public, but that was just shrewd business practice. For some reason though, _forcing_ a friend to knowingly eat another person was, squicky.

It felt like hours of staring at the two staring at each other before Mrs. Lovett felt her heart leap with joy for a pure reprieve from the tedium when Bellatrix opened her mouth to speak.

"Get something straight here: if I eat this, I'm one of you, and no more bitching when I want to help with the slaughter. I'm as in this as you are, if not more so; I've never seen you down in the bake house after all." Bellatrix rose a single menacing eyebrow at Sweeney as Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but feel victorious at the vindication of her hard work. It had been one of hers and Sweeney's most constant arguments before Bellatrix showed up: who did the most work? According to Sweeney, partially shaving people and pacing was much harder work than Nellie had thought. If she didn't love him so much Mrs. Lovett would have killed him ages ago. It was nice to have someone on her side for once.

Sweeney was thinking about it.

"Once a month." He growled.

Bellatrix flailed in a ridiculous display of mock offence.

"Nellie, get packing. I just saw the barber upstairs kill and eat a vicar all by himself."

Sweeney rolled his eyes, and grit his teeth.

"Once a…"

Bellatrix furrowed her brow at Sweeney.

Sweeney huffed.

"_Twice_ a week."

Bellatrix relaxed as she thought about it.

IN a flash then, without warning and without ever breaking eye contact with Sweeney, Bellatrix rose the pie to her mouth and shoved half of it in in a single bite.

Sweeney grew somehow even stiller than before as his eyes drew to the size of saucers.

Bellatrix just continued to chew, starting Sweeney in the eye and smiling through a grotesquely full mouth.

Nellie was weirdly proud of the witch, but unfortunately she couldn't suppress the inexplicable gag when Bellatrix turned to wink at her.

Giggling slightly, Bellatrix turned back to Sweeney and made as big a show she could of swallowing before, like a child, she opened her empty mouth wide to the man, proving that she had swallowed it all.

Sweeney nearly leapt from the bench before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Bellatrix just continued to grin broadly to herself and look smug.

A thought occurred to Nellie then, as she watched the incredibly chuffed woman pick a bit at the vegetables left in the other half of the pie.

"You done that before, ain't ya?"

Bellatrix cackled.

"I was young and curious. It's never been a favorite mind you, but it's an excellent parlor trick to make people fear you."

She stopped then and turned, very serious, to Nellie.

"You'd better not back out on our deal. All I had to do was eat the pie, there was never anything about it being my first!"

Nellie found herself rolling her eyes, again.

Of course. Bellatrix had used the whole thing as a way to get what she wanted from Sweeney and from Nellie, too.

"Fine. Just rinse out your mouth first."

She could feel the floor bounce as Bellatrix skipped along behind her on their way to the bedroom.


	6. Of Nightmares and Emptiness

It was so comfortable, that it was uncomfortable.

Sure, as a child she was pampered and spoiled to the point of it almost being disgusting. But not once was one of those pampering's waking up to someone close who would hold you after a nightmare, then have the decency not to say a word about it the next morning. A few times as a child Cissy or Andi might sneak into her bed at night after a stray boggart ended up in their wardrobe, but that was it.

Just after her escape from Azkaban, Bellatrix would hope with all of her might for something, anything to scare Cissy enough that she would come curl up with her; anything so that maybe, just once, for the first time in almost a decade and a half Bellatrix wouldn't wake up from a nightmare alone.

The nightmares didn't even have form anymore. The forms had subsided years ago to the purest essences of a cavernous emptiness and icy cold. Sometimes she wondered if this was what a dementors kiss felt like.

It never happened though. Cissy never came and the cold never went away. If anything the nightmares only got worse after Azkaban. Behind bars, as ghastly and soul-crushing as every second was, for just a few seconds before the dementors would come by, there was the hope that away from the forsaken bit of rock life was not so cold and lonely. But when she was out and free, so excited for a world that wasn't so hellacious she found that she was wrong. Sure the food and lodgings were vastly improved, and there were no dementors but at a certain point that didn't matter anymore. Years ago in prison these filthy creatures had broken her – broken her ability to feel anything except for pain and anger properly. Pureblooded society embroiled in war did nothing to fix her mental state.

She tried. She tried earnestly to find comfort in her sister, pride in her nephew, humor in forced desperate laughs that lasted too long and were too loud. Nothing worked. After so long the cold emptiness in her chest stopped feeling painful and just became normal.

But this: the feeling in that trench of her chest as she jolted awake in the night, only to be pulled closer in by a soft pair of arms wasn't empty. This feeling wasn't cold.

It hurt.

It hurt the way it did when she had to learn to walk again, muscles weak and atrophied from years of disuse in a cell no larger than a square meter. In a strange way though, it was a good pain – hopeful that soon it would be gone. If she felt it enough surely she would become numb to it. Even the Longbottoms stopped feeling her cruciatus after so long. If anything, the pain was even starting to become a little bit pleasurable.

The feeling of Nellie Lovett sleepily burying her face into Bellatrix's neck and squeezing tightly was far more wonderful than Bellatrix would ever admit. It was warm, soft, and less lonely than she had felt in her life.

That that was why people loved dogs so much. Just like muggles, they were under-evolved and sub-human, but they were devoted and affectionate. Lying with dogs is a fantastic way to get fleas, and who knows what she could be catching by living and sleeping with muggles. But a least with whatever heinous disease she caught by nuzzling into Nellie's auburn hair, she would feel a little less cold, and a little less lonely.


	7. Of Land Leasing and Made Up Words

To say that she was jealous of anyone else who had Bellatrix's time was an understatement.

For one, Nellie had become quite fond of all the help that Bellatrix could offer in the bake house, as well as the bedroom, and all of the increased patronage that came from having another lovely lady in the shop was rather nice as well.

And certainly, Nellie was more than a little envious of all the magic that Bellatrix, used, enjoyed, and was a part of at all times. So naturally, Nellie couldn't help that terrible tinge of something in her gut when Bellatrix would disappear off to go play with her magic friends in her magic world full og magic things while Nell was left to try and coax Mr. T into sitting in the park with her and Toby, where he would do nothing more interesting than glare off into the distance. Even if he wasn't brooding by her side, the park still wasn't anything to really enjoy. It was a dingy boring park full of dingy boring people and not a single plant screamed or wiggled.

Not that she'd ever seen a bloody screaming wiggling plant – only ever heard of them and the flying bloody broomsticks and goblins from Bella. For all she knew, the witch was just pulling her "muggle" leg.

And that word! Really! All of Bella's "wizard" words sounded like something made up by a child: "Quid-itchy." "Hogswarts" "Green-gobs" – Bellatrix was tricking her, surely, and was out doing God-knows-what with her wizard friends, laughing all the while about her stupid and easy muggle landlady.

The gall! She opened her home, her business, and her bed to this stranger, and how was she repaid? With a constant barrage of Sweeney-like death threats, rages, and a constant derogatory mocking.

That was it, she would kill her. She would beat her, take all of her money (which she had only earned thanks to Nellie's good graces!) and throw her out on the street.

And she would snap that stupid stick for good measure, and make the woman easy prey to all the vultures of the streets.

Really, she was damn well lucky that Nellie wasn't going to publicly proclaim the woman a witch. The people of London might not believe, but they were bloodthirsty. They would certainly not have any problems against bringing back a stake and some public gore.

So upset with she, so fuming, as she started running around the room, looking for things that were actually Bella's and not just borrowed from herself to burn, that she didn't hear the click of boot heels coming up behind her.

"Nellie, do we have any-" This was perhaps the worst time that she could have chosen to reappear and ask for something.

Overcome with the rage she had worked herself into and triggered by Bellatrix's constant entitled need, Mrs. Lovett rounded on Bellatrix, discarded garment in hand and ready to be weaponized. And it was, in an instant her right hand was swatting the witch about the face, distracting from the other woman from the left hand that reached out to grab a thick handful of curly black hair.

Her arms ached with the force that Bellatrix used to twist out of and away from her wild hands, before slamming her back into a corner, and effectively trapping her there with her own body and imposing demeanor.

"Merlin's balls, Nellie! What could possibly be going through your thick head you mad little muggle!"

Never mind the rest of it, there was _that_ fucking _word _**again.**

"Out! Out! Out! Out! Out! You wretched vile creature! Get out of my house! I'm sick of you, and your temper! I'm sick of entitled fucking tantrums! And I'm sick of your bloody mocking and made up words! Go stay with one of your bloody little wizard friends, in your bloody little wizard town, and do all your bloody wizard things! I hope they keep a roof over your head, because I'm bloody well finished sharing mine with the likes of you!"

Her skin was burning, but her blood ran cold at the black look in Bellatrix's eyes as the other woman rose to her full height, and crept into every bit of Nellie's personal space. Nellie could feel the breath from the other woman's flaring nostrils against her skin, and quickly bit back the fear that the sensation brought.

If Bellatrix wanted a fight she would get it. Bellatrix may have magic and a history in war on her side, but Nellie knew that deep down inside she was a spoilt little rich girl who hadn't the foggiest idea of what the horrors everyday life on Fleet Street brought.

Luckily, Nellie did.

She was 7 years old the first time she got into a real street fight. Not some little hair-pulling shoulder shoving fit, but a right bit of fisticuffs.

Little Nell had saved up for weeks, what little change she could find on the ground or sneak out of a pocket, for those biscuits. Even after she had acquired the money getting them had been hard enough, what with the lousy shop keep in the pretty little shop only blocks away from her home on Fleet Street, but worlds away for all the differences between them. (Over three decades later and Mrs. Lovett could still remember that old bints pinched lips and upturned nose, and her hideous hair style. It looked less like hair and more like some bulbous mushroom-animal breed living on her head) The old bint had given poor little Nellie a hell of a time as the girl had tried to buy some bloody biscuits, accusing her of stealing the money and whatnot (didn't matter that it was true - how dare she?) and Nell had felt all the more protective of her sweet little treasure. So naturally when the little Adams brat tried to take them right out of her pocket, Nell did what was only right, and punched the boy.

It wasn't the best decision; he was 4 years older than her and quite a bit larger. But it had worked out in the end, all it took was a few good bites and hard kicks to his tiny little tackle before the hardest punches her little arms could throw, and Nell had won. Sure she was going home with a black eye and busted lip, but she was also taking her biscuits (a little crumbly now) and two of his teeth with her.

These sort of fights were common place occurrences, clear through to only a few days before Mr. Todd had shown up, and a now fully grown Mrs. Lovett left a drunken would-be-rapist with a broken jaw and soiled pants. He had ruined one of her last two wearable dresses, but when she left he was out cold on the ground. Really, he could be dead for all she knew now, but that was life in the slums; you wake up looking to take anything you can - unfortunately including a bit of stolen quim, and end up breathing your last in a dark alley soaking in your own filth.

Point being, a spoilt little rich witch, who never had to do more than raise a stick in a fight, could do bugger all against Nellie Lovett in a fair fight.

With her wits now about her as her adrenaline pumped, Nellie knew the first thing she had to do was to rid Bellatrix of that bloody wand. It was easier said than done at any given point, especially with all of the witch's attention and temper focused on her and not some French pick pocket, but she could do it. She had to now really. She had picked the fight and the only way to win would be to take away the single advantage the witch had.

Quickly, before Bellatrix could do her wretched mind-reading, Nellie shoved the witch backwards, grabbed a new handful of hair, and used the leverage and the shock to force Bellatrix face first into the corner herself, and quick as she could, she shoved her tiny hand into the other woman's bodice and grabbed the wand. Panicking, she flung the wand towards the safest place she could think of: the top of the wardrobe. For all of Bellatrix's might and yelling, she was thankfully just as short as Nellie, and would have a hard time of it getting her wand off of the top of the furniture item without a stool of some sort.

Time slowed to a still, as Nellie listened to it clatter, rolling around on top of the wardrobe, and she waited either side waiting in terror for it to fall off.

Tickticktickticktickticktick

Ticktickticktick

Tick tick tick

Tick tick

Tick

Tick.

Nellie was so caught up in letting out a breath of relief as it stayed elevated above them, that she didn't register Bellatrix's motion until two hands had knocked her firmly to the ground.

Nellie sorely regretted letting out her previous breath, as the force of the impact with the cold wooden floor knocked the rest of it out, and the knees now digging into either side of her ribs as Bellatrix straddled her were certainly not helping her to regain it. The hands were coming around her neck now, and Nellie was profoundly glad that she had undressed the woman above her so many times, because she knew exactly where to find a knife hiding in a bit of stocking.

It came out quickly, and left a nice slice in the side of Bellatrix's forearm with little effort.

Sure enough, the little princess pulled away in surprise. But less assuredly, took a moment to lick the blood before returning to the battle, and Nellie, more aroused than she cared to admit by the sight watched and waited patiently for the fight to resume without bothering to move.

With a howl Bellatrix lunged and they began to go anew, this time with Nellie palming the blade, and using a series of small startling nicks to gain an advantage over Bellatrix and roll her over. After all, she really only wanted to win some dominion over the witch, and punish her for being such a righteous bitch. Then, if she properly submitted, Nellie _might _let her stay. Also, no matter what the situation, Mrs. Lovett cleaned up enough blood throughout any given day, she didn't need to worry about all the viscera a slit neck on her bedroom rug would surely cause.

Bellatrix fought wildly the entire time, like a "bucking bronco" that Nellie had sometimes read about in books about America, but Nellie was light, and nimble, and had had more than her fair share of bouncing being married to Albert. Staying a top was no real battle at all. Trying to get a proper punch in past the witch's wild flailing arms however was an entirely different matter. Quickly growing frustrated, Nellie brought her left arm in sideways, effectively clearing the way for a swift punch to Bellatrix's jaw, but no sooner had her free fist connected than a set of crooked teeth bit into the flesh just by her wrist.

Losing all sense of real composure, or focus on the matter at hand, she began to swat wildly at the mouth, and relieved when it finally came she was finally free, nearly forgot the fight altogether to look it over and nurse the wound. She did mind the fact that she really ought be paying more attention, but Bellatrix had lapsed into a fit of cackling laughter underneath her; so much so that the woman was starting to get the hiccups, and really, a hiccupping laughing woman, holding her stomach and no bigger or stronger than herself was no real threat – an infection was.

Forgoing almost every bit of street smarts that she had, Nellie stabbed the knife into her mattress, freeing herself up to inspect the now bleeding bite wound.

"'S not fucking funny! I'm going to catch something from that vile mouth of yours." Bellatrix just started laughing harder. Nellie wanted to be angry with her for not taking their fight for respect seriously, but really, the woman was like a child. It'd be like scolding Toby for not caring about the state of parliament, and of course her laughing was just coming harder and harder for no apparent reason. It was very difficult to be angry with someone who was clearly not all there mentally. Nellie could still glare at her though. Surely that was allowable.

"Ohhh, Nellie ***hiccup*** Did I *hiccup* hurt your feelings?"

"No. You hurt my bloody hand."

Bellatrix, sat up then, eyes intense and burning into her own, body shaking every so often from a stifled hiccup. Then, without breaking eye contact, and with a smirk painted on her face, Bellatrix's tongue darted out, lapping just once at Nellie's bloody hand.

"Let me make it up to you."

She really shouldn't have. She should have kept fighting, or at least made good on her threats to throw the other woman out. But her heart and blood were still racing, her adrenaline still high, and with her head now resting on her own shoulder, and full lips pouting, Bellatrix looked like a hungry pup. Nellie couldn't say no to that.

Deciding to act on impulse, she shoved the other woman back down to the floor again, only this time, quickly moving her hips higher up the other woman's body, and resting her weight on her own hands behind her.

Bellatrix rose an eyebrow in question at her.

"Well, make it up to me."

And with a devious smile, she did.

She spent the next hour in fact making up for it very thoroughly. Nellie was shocked the witch was still alive for the little times that Nellie allowed her to stop and breathe. But at least for that moment in time, they were on good terms. Not so good of terms though, that Mrs. Lovett felt any inclination to cuddle afterwards, and after she sharply pulled away from a playful hand, Bellatrix made quite the show of huffing and pouting.

She really was like a child.

But if that were this case, then this would be her time out. They had started fighting for a reason, and Bellatrix needed to realize that. They could be friendly again afterwards.

Dear Lord, she might as well have been punishing Toby. Nellie inwardly cringed at having Toby anywhere in the mental vicinity of tipping the velvet with Bellatrix. Damn her.

The silence was long and awkward, but Nellie inwardly rejoiced with victory when Bellatrix spoke up, quieter than she had ever been.

"They aren't made up."

"Pardon?"

"They aren't made up words." Nellie looked over her shoulder to see Bellatrix with her chin slung low, and her fingers picking at the blanket.

As soon as Bellatrix saw the movement though, she hastened to adopt her normal haughty posture, and voice.

"Those words are not made up, and they are not some silly babble to trick you. If anything, you should be thanking me for ever allowing a filthy muggle like yourself to hear them, much less learn what they mean." They stared at each other for a long moment. "And you say them wrong. If a goblin were ever to hear you call it 'green gobs' it would probably kill you and then try to start a war."

A quick flash of annoyance was very quickly starting to boil into another fit of outright anger.

"And when would I ever get a chance to offend a goblin so?"

Bellatrix lifted her jaw in a show of strength, and tried to stare Nellie down. But the baker was more than used to this trick by now. Bellatrix used it all the time, and Mr. T had even picked it up like a nasty habit. It didn't work though, because Nellie just so happened to know how to stare right back.

With a huff Bellatrix lowered her chin and tried to pick at the blanket with as much authority as possible.

"…When I take you to Diagon Alley."

Nellie nearly fell off of the bed as she struggled to free herself from the blankets.

"Put on your pants!"

"What?!"

"Put on your pants, and the rest of your clothes too!"

"Why?"

"Because you're taking me diagonally right now!"

Bellatrix just sighed, as she slowly slipped from the bed, and began to pick up her clothing from the floor.

"Unless you want to be killed, and for me to end up back in Azkaban for our visit, I suggest you not say a word."

Completely over her earlier anger, and eager to see the moving plants as soon as possible, Nellie Lovett pinched her lips tightly together in a wide smile, and nodded as quickly as she could.


End file.
